


Prickly

by SuedeScripture



Series: Short Pinto Prompts [8]
Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, splinters in weird places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuedeScripture/pseuds/SuedeScripture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic prompt "disastrous tree-climbing?" not exactly, but the idea struck and I went with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prickly

**Author's Note:**

> for jabllon.

"STOP FUCKING LAUGHING."

"I’m so sorry," Zach gasps, "It’s just… oh my god. Only you, Christopher."

Chris fumes, “I am never doing a photoshoot with that asshole again.”

"Oh come on, Tyler means well," Zach tries through stifled giggles, "It’s all for art, you know."

"I HAVE SPLINTERS IN MY BALLSACK."

And Zach doubles right over again, laughing so hard he can’t fucking breathe.

"I hate you. Nevermind! I’ll limp to the fucking hospital, I’ll make them sign a gag."

"No, hey, Chris," Zach swallows against his seizing diaphragm, "I’m sorry. I mean it. I’ll help."

Chris glares at him thunderously, which for Chris, is like an adorable red-in-the-face baby concentrating really hard on taking a dump. Zach snorts and quells it, turning to his medicine cabinet, finding tweezers, antiseptic ointment, and a couple of washcloths to run under a hot faucet. He clears his throat, “So, how did he convince you to climb a tree in the nude, anyway?”

Chris follows him to the bedroom, where Zach pulls back the curtain so the bed is brightly illuminated by natural light. “I don’t even fuckin’ know, man. Some shit about one with nature and the animal inside or whatever.”

Zach quells another giggle immediately, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

"Is that how he convinced you to get milk thrown at you?"

Blinking, Zach hesitates, “Uh, no. Not really.” He doubts Chris wants to know what that was about. “So, um, on the bed, ass to the window, I guess. And take your uh, pants off.”

As he turns his back while Chris complies, Zach strives for clinical thoughts, clinical thoughts, helping out a friend in pain, yup, that’s all this is.

He turns back, presented with that which has featured in his dreams, Chris on his hands and knees in nothing but his t-shirt, takes a deep breath. Wow. “Uh, so. Maybe it’ll be better on your back. So I can see… everything.”

Chris glances briefly over his shoulder with a derisive snort, flipping to his back gingerly, feet braced apart at the edge of the mattress, staring at the ceiling.

Swallowing, Zach moves to kneel between them at the side of the bed, taking extra time to arrange his implements and resolutely not gaze at the whole amazing shebang in front of him. He reaches up just to place a hand on the back of a thigh, and Chris about jumps a mile.

"Sorry," Zach soothes, leaving his hand there and petting lightly, “But I’m going to have to touch you. Um. Intimately."

"Yeah yeah," Chris mumbles, throwing an arm across his eyes, "Just get on with it.”

“I’m not going to—“

“It’s fine, Zach. I trust you.”

"Kay."

And really, poor Christopher. Poor Chris’ beautiful balls, and the insides of his thighs, all red and angry with little black spikes impaled in his sunless pale skin. Zach takes a deep breath, blows it out, and goosebumps erupt between Chris’ legs.

“Jesus,” Chris mutters above him, “Could you just…”

“I am, sorry,” Zach insists, taking up the tweezers and a cloth. “I’m… planning my approach.”

“You say that to all the boys, I’m sure.”

Zach giggles again. “Maybe.” Leaning in, he decides to start at the left inner thigh, pinching splinters carefully and plucking them free. “Hey, at least I’ve had plenty of practice plucking things.”

“What?”

“Eyebrows, Chris, jesus.”

“Oh yeah,” Chris sniggers against his forearm. He jerks and whimpers when Zach goes for a particularly large, deeply lodged splinter and draws it out. “Ow. Ow ow ow!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Zach says, taking up the washcloth to gently wipe at the little prick of blood welling up. He tips to kiss the non-splintery part of thigh soothingly.

Chris lifts his head up, staring at him between his legs, and Zach realizes his mistake. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Chris just shakes his head, dismissive, dropping it back.

Biting his lip, Zach moves to the other thigh. There are only a few splinters there, and it takes only a minute to pluck them out. Then he has to turn to the unhappy, inflamed skin of his balls, which are considerably worse for wear.

And distinctively hairless. Huh. “Maybe you could have gone to your waxer,” he comments.

Chris huffs a caught-redhanded laugh, “Jesus.”

“I mean, it would have worked, right?”

“God no, she scares me enough,” Chris giggles. “She’s this like, ninety year old mean Jewish grandmother, mumbles all disapprovingly in Yiddish the whole time she’s stripping my junk. She’d probably think I’m into kinky sex with wooden toys or something.”

“Are you?”

Chris shoots him a withering look between his knees.

Sniggering, Zach carefully brings his hand up to cup them in his palm, using his fingers to stretch the skin so he can find the splinters. For his part, Chris stays very still, worrying his bottom lip and holding his breath.

“Explains how you’re handling this like a champ though,” he says after a few minutes' careful de-splintering, gently daubing bleeders with the rag.

“Only because Bubbe’s got me trained. I’m terrified she’ll neuter me if I move.”

“Maybe she’s not disapproving,” he comments, finding and removing each tiny sliver.

“Whatever,” Chris breathes, “I’m sure you don’t mind handling the goods.”

Zach throws him a dirty look, but smiles, looking back at his work. “I’m not complaining.”

“Neither am I,” Chris sighs above him. “You’re nicer than she is.”

Electing to ignore that (with the fact that Chris is lying half-hard in the juncture of his hip, because hey, guys get hard all the time at the waxer and it means squat, he insists furiously to himself). He methodically checks to see if he’s missed anything, stroking his fingertips very carefully along tender sac, underneath, all around his groin area. Chris’ adams apple bobs above, his eyes closed.

“Okay, I think that’s it, you’re good,” Zach stands, his face hot. Chris lifts up on his elbows, face and neck also bright red to the collar of his shirt, and Zach holds out the tube of ointment, eyes trained to the safety of the pillows. “You should rub this stuff on, just so you don’t get an infection.”

Chris looks at him long between his legs, eyes between the ointment tube, Zach’s face, and his own dick, which hasn’t gone down, Zach can’t help but notice. He jerks his eyes away again. Never mind he’s been very consciously ignoring the raging hard-on in his own jeans he could pound nails with. Maybe he shouldn’t have stood up. Shit.

“You do it.”

Zach looks at the oily tube in his fingers, “Uh, I don’t think—”

“Zach,” Chris says softly to catch his attention. “I’m not up for much right now, obviously, but like…” he pauses and shakes his head, “The only way to make this not supremely weird is to admit it segued into something else. Right?”

This is ridiculous. “This is ridiculous.”

“Yes it is,” Chris says, “This is not exactly how I imagined it either.”

That catches Zach completely off guard. “Wait, you imagined what now?”

“Just,” Chris laughs, mopping his hand across his face, grinning down his body, “Lube me up and then get up here so we can talk about our playing nurse fantasies and my not-so-straight days in college.”

Zach stares down, and Chris stares up, looking like quite the fantasy, still, naked from the waist down and fucking gorgeous. He cocks one knee farther to the side, and fuck if Zach’s knees don’t hit the floor like it was a trigger. He meets Chris flame blue eyes between his legs, holding them as he tilts and kisses the exposed pale skin of the opposite thigh.

Chris drops his head back to the bed with a groan. “I fucking hate that Tyler guy, just sayin’.”


End file.
